In Her Eyes
by sunthorn
Summary: Superman's adopted sister. What the title says. Begins a couple months before Clark's five year journey. rated T for later.
1. Chapter 1

**Heres a superman fic! there is not one like it as far as i've seen, so please, constructive critasism welcome!**

Soaring over the cornfields of Smallville, Kansas, Superman finally felt at home. Or rather Clark Kent did. He was returning home for a visit after three months of living in Metropolis. Clark landed a few strides away from the front steps; he smiled when he saw his mother hadn't changed a thing about the house. As he opened the front door, he called, "Mom, I'm home!" "Oh, Clark! In the kitchen." Clark smiled and started toward the door across the room, but stopped short when he realized he wasn't the only one in the room. A young dark haired girl sat in an overstuffed armchair with her thin bare legs draped over one of the armrests. A fashion magazine covered her face, but when she lowered it, Clark saw she had headphones in her ears and gum in her mouth. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it and walked toward the kitchen door, throwing curious glances back at the girl every few steps. She cocked an eyebrow and snapped her pink bubblegum, indicating she thought he was weird. Not a good way to start out a relationship, whoever this girl was. As soon as Clark stepped into the kitchen, his mother turned from whatever she was cooking and hurried over to hug him.

"Oh Clark! How are you?" She hugged him again, then held him at arms length, inspecting him, as if living in Metropolis had left some visible mark or scar on her son.

"Hey mom," Clark smiled and was going to say something about the mystery girl in the living room, but his mother cut him off.

"How was the trip? Did you fly in?" Martha inquired.

"I rode the bus into Smallville but flew the rest of the way here. Um, Mom," He added before Martha could launch into another round of questions.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, heading back to the stove.

"Um, who's that girl in the living room?"

Sierra was just in the middle of listening to "Toxic" by Brittney Spears and reading an article on fruit exfoliates when she heard the front door open. A young man with dark hair and amazing blue eyes stepped into the house. She looked him up and down before hastily pulling the magazine up to cover her slowly creeping blush. _Whoa, who knew my brother would be so hot?_

"Mom, I'm home!" he called, and Sierra knew without a doubt that this was her new big brother.

"Oh Clark! In the kitchen!" Martha called back. Salem heard his footsteps stop in the middle of the room and she felt his eyes on her. The girls heart pace quickened involuntarily. She lowered her magazine, playing it cool. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind upon receiving a look from Sierra. He continued toward the kitchen, throwing weird looks over his shoulder at Sierra every few steps. She snapped her bubblegum and raised her left eyebrow, hoping she was giving off a "cool" vibe. Once Clark disappeared into the kitchen, Sierra lost al composure and collapsed against the armrests. She heard Martha give Clark the whole, "Welcome home" bit through the walls. Her heart leapt when she heard Clark ask, "who the girl in the living room was" though she didn't know why. Then Martha and Clark came through the kitchen door with virtually no warning, and Sierra had to pretend she was picking a scab on her knee; once she had spent a believable amount of time on that, she hastily pulled the magazine up to cover her face.

"Sierra, honey, put that magazine down and meet your brother." Martha said. Sierra sighed audibly, swung her legs aroung to the floor, and popped her gum again.

"Hey." She said.

It was Clark's turn to raise an eyebrow; one, this girl was a punk. Two, last time he checked, Clark didn't have a sister.

"Sierra is twelve," Martha began, but Clark interjected, "Um, I haven't been gone that long, have I?" he looked a bit bewildered. Sierra snorted. Martha gave her a, "be nice or else" look before continuing.

"I was lonely, so I adopted Sierra." Clark no longer looked confused.

"Why not just get another dog?" he said meanly, motioning to the retriever laying on the rug. Sierra glared at him_. No way am I gonna be polite to that sonofa- uh, son of a gun…yah, that's what I meant…_

Clark smiled at the murderous look she fixed him in. He was surprised when she colored slightly and looked away when he did.

"Well, I'll be in the kitchen cooking," Martha said. "You two just sit in here and—uh, get to know each other." She had been about to say, "and don't kill each other" but decided against it. As soon as she disappeared through the kitchen door, Sierra picked up her magazine and propped it in front of her face. Clark smiled amusedly when he saw her eyes were staying in the same spot. Huh, I guess she's nervous… He liked the fact that he, as Clark Kent, had that kind of effect on someone; even if that someone was a twelve year old girl. _She's pretty though; no doubt she'll be a heart breaker when she's older. _Sierra had startling orange-amber eyes and black hair cropped just above her shoulders. At the moment she had her hair in little pigtails. Clarke walked to sit across from her and watched her color slightly._ It's nice being in control…_

**Thats it, i'll update when i can! Keep Rockin!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I know I never update and I'm sorry...but please still read and review!!!**

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Sierra was hyperventilating. Well, not really. Her hands were shaking and she was red as a tomato. Her breath was coming in and out so fast anyone might have thought she was hyperventilating. Plan, plan, oh god I need a plan, she gasped to herself. Her mind raced, and she was almost unable to form a coherent thought. She shivered, but not from cold. From heat. There was a mind numbing heat emanating from Clark; or maybe not from Clark. Maybe from herself. Either way, it was becoming difficult to breath. All at once, Sierra hated this man for making her lose it. She hated him and she wanted to show him that. Her mind slowly stopped racing, and her face became pale once again. Plan…

Sierra allowed herself one wicked grin before wiping her face blank, replacing it with and intense look. Nonchalantly, she put down her magazine, placed her chin in her hand with her elbow on her knee, and fixed Clark in a hard stare. For a full five minutes she stared, her burning orange eyes never leaving his icy blue ones. She could see him squirm. Clark coughed and looked away. Sierra grinned in victory as she rose from her chair, straightening herself in a very dignified manner. Her smile was sadistic and dazzling at the same time, and Clark watched his sister in wonder. She sauntered to the front door.

"Mom, I'm going for a walk." She called to Martha. "I already ate."

"Alright…I'll save you a little cornbread though!" Martha answered. Cornbread was Sierra's favorite. Sierra grinned again, waving to Clark as one would to a toddler.

"See you later, then." Clark said curtly, his face no longer as red as it had been. Sierra rolled her eyes and slammed the door as she left.

The outdoors amazed Sierra. She had lived in the city before she got adopted, and it had always been smoggy and noisy there. Here in the country it was so open and clear. She loved the cornfields the best. It seemed like the greatest thing to her to run through them and get lost for hours and hours. She would lay in the soft dirt and the sweet smelling corn stalks and sleep. But right now Sierra was mad. She didn't want to go somewhere to sleep. She actually felt like punching something. Sierra leapt from the porch and hit the ground running. She heard a dog bark loudly and suddenly a yellow lab puppy was running beside her. Martha had never told Sierra what the dogs' name was, so she just called him Dax. He was a year or two old she guessed; a juvenile. He was fun to play with. They ran together all around the farm, scattering chickens and jumping over anything in their path. Dax barked and nipped at Sierra's heels, following her like a devoted best friend. Gradually they became tired, and Sierra plopped down in the dust to rest. Dax came to a stop beside her, wriggling and panting, watching to see if they would run some more. When Sierra didn't get up, Dax laid down, his honey colored fur gleaming with sweat. His side went up and down in a comfortable beat and his tongue lolled out. Sierra stared at him as she scratched his belly. He seemed so content. She laid down beside the dog; he licked her face. The setting sun beat down on the girl and dog, drenching them in its red-golden brilliance. Sierra scratched her knee, turned to her dog, and looked him directly in his brown eyes.

"Well, do _you_ think I should be nicer to Clark?"


End file.
